I'd never have a birthday like that again. I'd never light up at the sight of a small wrapped box with my dad's scribbled scrawl across the card he'd written me. The tradition had ended just as violently as everything else in my life.
It was hard not to think about that night. For the first few years, I'd managed to block it out, but sometimes, it came creeping back in…the way it was right now. There were noises in this house that made my skin crawl, and the emptiness only amplified it. Every shutter that slammed or floorboard that creaked brought that night rushing back.
I could still remember what I was wearing—my long white prom dress that I was so proud of. It was a rainy night, kind of like this one. The squelch of…hissteps down the hallway was something I'd never burn from my mind.
Say his name…
The voice in my head was loud tonight. It laughed as I turned over in bed and faced the wall, as if I could shut it out.
You fucking coward, just say it… You used to moan it, didn't you, you little slut? When you touched yourself at night, you wanted it to be him…
I shut my eyes tightly and tried to pretend I couldn't hear. I wouldn't say his name. I wouldn't give life back to the man who murdered my whole family—the man I made the mistake of loving when I knew it was wrong.
Say it, say it, say it!
Flipping back over, I pressed my hands over my ears and shook my head. "Get out of my head!" The voice only laughed, enjoying my torment and the fact that I could never escape it.
Leaping from the bed, I ran out of the room, laughter echoing in the back of my head. I couldn't take it anymore. Reaching the family room, I tore open my overnight bag, grabbing the small metal flask I kept buried in there. It was my dad's, one of the only items I requested from the police, aside from a couple of Magnolia’s photos.
My back hit the wall as I slid down, unscrewing the cap and instantly chugging the bitter liquid. It burned all the way down, warming my stomach and instantly flooding me with buzzing calmness.
That's right, drink it all up, whore. It's all you're good for—fucking, drinking and running…
"Fuck you!" I screamed at the taunting voice, rocking back and forth with my eyes shut tight. "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!" My words were slurred now as I drank and drank. It was the only way to silence my own head.
The laughter tapered off, so I stood on wobbly legs, using the wall as a support before stumbling back towards the guest room. My shoulders hit the wall at every corner, and I stumbled into a table holding an old vase. It tumbled off, shattering around my feet. I stopped to guzzle down more bitter liquid, not caring about the vase that was worth more than my car. The burn was amazing, and I craved more and more.
I managed to empty my dad's flask. Letting it fall from my fingertips, I threw myself back on the bed. The world spun in circles, and I fought the nausea that crawled up my throat. I was too tired to care anymore, too tired to move or think or even sleep, so I just lay there.
It took five long hours to fall asleep, and every one of those hours was spent replaying my weird conversation with Kaz, wondering if he’d been real or just some odd figment of my imagination. Through my drunken haze, I pictured his full, wide lips that hid those sharp teeth. I thought about what those teeth might feel like nipping at my thigh.
It wasn’t the first time in the last decade that I’d hallucinated, so there was always a chance that my craziness had finally peaked. Two years ago, I’d even checked myself into a psych ward after walking into traffic one day, convinced I’d seen Magnolia across the street.
It obviously hadn’t been her, but my brain saw her there, staring at me with half of her beautiful face completely missing, sliced right down the center, just like the last time I’d seen her.
I woke up slowly, blinking my eyes against the moonlight that had shifted to shine directly on my face. I couldn’t move a single muscle. I couldn't even remember falling asleep, it had been so sudden. I tried to twitch my fingers, but nothing—no movement, no feeling.
I immediately thought of Cyn and Cilas and wondered if this was some kind of game they liked to play. I didn’t sense them in the room with me, though, and as I thought of it, I didn’t sense Kyle and Kevin either. I knew without a single doubt that I was completely alone but unable to move. I was paralized…again.
The only part of my body I had any control over were my eyes, and I flitted them around the room, searching for anything to grasp onto, anything to focus on. I’d had sleep paralysis before, and usually, I just had to calm myself down and focus as hard as I could on one object in the room. Eventually, my toes would tingle, and it would travel up and up until my fingers moved and I was free.
It wasn’t working. I strained as hard as I could, trying to move just one single finger or toe…but nothing.
Then the door creaked.
I frowned at the closed door, having sworn I’d left it open for the cats to come and go. I never slept with the door closed, always needing some kind of escape route. I tried to open my mouth to call out to Kevin and Kyle, but my lips wouldn’t budge, and even as I tried to scream inside my throat, there was no sound.
I had to be dreaming, right?
I watched with wide eyes as the handle of the bedroom door turned. My heart thumped so hard that I could feel it pulsing all the way in my ears. Outside the window, the rain had stopped completely, leaving everything silent and still. It had to be somewhere around three in the morning, but I couldn't be sure.
The bedroom door creaked open slowly, the rusty hinges squeaking and cracking. I tried to scream again the wider it opened, if only to get my mouth to start working. If I could only get one part of my body to obey, then I could break free from this…
To my own surprise, I tried to scream for Cilas and Cyn. If they were here, surely they could hear me. If they were actually real, that was. Which, I still wasn't completely sure they were. Even if they were real, what made me think they would help me? They’d gotten what they wanted out of me already.
The door yawned open, letting more darkness in, along with a cold gust of stale air from the hallway. My eyes were locked on that darkness, trying to see through it to whatever lurked there.
Movement had my body jerking, as if the need to run was greater than the force holding me in place, and yet I still couldn’t leave this bed. All I could do was stare at the doorway as a pale white, too long hand tipped in long clawed nails curled around the top of the doorframe. My breathing was ragged, my chest heaving painfully fast as another hand, then another and another, curled around the frame too.